Breakeven
by ibuiltthesunforyou
Summary: Rachel Berry has nothing left. Why would her dreams matter when she's lost one of the most important men in her life? She gives her big, shining dreams... can Quinn patch them like before? Faberry. Future! College Fic
1. Chapter 1

Rachel Berry was on top of the world, the taste of her soy vanilla latte still on her lips as she skipped to her car, waving goodbye to Jessica and making a motion for the girl to call her. She couldn't stop smiling, her life was so perfect. She finally had friends who loved her for her. Not just her overwhelming talent. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, her smile nearly bursting from her cheeks as she thought, "I knew they were just jealous."

She had never been insecure about not fitting in, or being better then everyone else, that is until the end of senior year when she had nothing but an oaf of a boyfriend's half hearted signature in her bedazzled yearbook. Kurt ran off with Blaine, texting her goodbye, Mercedes didn't even attempt to contact her, Tina smiled but didn't speak as Rachel glimpsed her across the room. She felt so alone that night. The only thing that stopped her from crying was her daddy taking her out for vegan ice cream. Rachel broke ties with Finn, saying that the long distance wouldn't have suited them, and mostly just confusing him with her vocabulary purposely. He'd kicked a wall, but they'd left on good terms. She left that retched town without looking back and it was the best choice she had ever made.

And her life was perfect.

She hailed a taxi, smiling at the billboards and ducking into the cab. Thankfully she'd gotten a driver who didn't look like a serial killer, it always was one of her fears that she'd get abducted and held for ransom, because of course, that's what she was paranoid about. The tiny brunette told him the address to her apartment and sat back, enjoying the cinnamon car freshener.

Generously tipping the nice man she jumped out when she arrived at her building she made her way up. She smiled happily at Henry, the door man as he opened it for her, and waved at Tiffany, the receptionist. The small girl couldn't help but twirl into the elevator and thankfully the less than graceful girl didn't run into anyone. Clicking her floor she made her way up.

Her phone rang when she was outside her door and she picked it up and smiled when she saw who it was. "Dad" Flashed on the screen. Rachel answered as she twisted the key in the lock and walked in.

"Dada!" She exclaimed. "I haven't heard from you in ages, its ridiculous! How're you?"

There was no cheerful bellowing laugh on the other line, just a soft sob. "B-babygirl…" The man said softly, his voice cracking.

"Dad? Is everything alright?" Rachel asked softly, her eyebrows furrowing in worry.

"No, Rachel, something… something's happened."

"What?" She was terrified now.

Then he told her.

Rachel's lips quivered. "N-no…" Her heart ached, her head spun, the innocent phone fell from her shaking hand and crashed to the floor, shattering with the break. She didn't even hear, the burning scream that was threatening to burst past her lips too much. Her knees buckled as she fell down the ground, knees digging into the glass that had previously occupied her iPhone's screen. She felt numb, terribly painfully numb.

And she curled up and cried her eyes out for her daddy right there in the middle of her lavish apartment, nothing mattering anymore. For her daddy, who was no more.


	2. Chapter 2

She sit in a pile of broken glass, torn clothes, displaced furniture and broken, choked...emptiness. Even with the bloodied marks from her fragile frame tossing things about, she couldn't feel. She didn't see the sun shining through the cracked window, or hear the water dripping from the twisted faucet.

Everything was over. Records thrown against the door, shattered vinyls, a microphone that she would wish she'd saved in half, skidded into the kitchen after it's battle with the wall. The clouds settled in so quickly, she didn't have time to remember what the sun looked like.

The cycles went quickly. With a mix of anger of yelling at the sky, asking why did he leave her, why did he leave her like this, of crying, of need, of bargaining with her God to bring back her dear daddy.

But nothing happened. Nothing saved her. And half of her broken heart laid, still glimmering on the floor as she walked out, slamming the door behind her.

Going home for the funeral was the worst part. When she had no tears left to cry but the salt still came and stung her red skin. The hugs, the love, the hugs that weren't her father's. Not her daddy's.

All her Glee friend's came, of course, hearing from family or maybe from her dad. But she only saw blurry colors.

She didn't tell anyone from her new life. But then again months after the worst day she didn't speak to anyone. The girl got a new apartment, dirtied and in a bad place, just like broken heart in her chest. Her hair was dyed black in a dramatic endeavor to try and match someone who was much better off at this moment then her. A star, a queen... Someone. Her lips were red with lip stick and her eyes were cold as stone.

In a small part of her, the part that still believed there was something worth while in this world, said she should be stronger for her living father. Should let her friends comfort her. That her phone shouldn't be left chiming on the chipped kitchen counter as she walked in every night from her job at a bar. Singing when there wasn't anyone there but drunken, broken men. Turning down offers if someone sober actually approached her for her voice or her body.

Once or twice she'd gone home with a girl. Only a girl in this instance in time. Men's arms no longer gave her comfort. Platonic or not, for it always reminded her of her father's hug and she broke into weak sobs. And she couldn't be weak. However even if she found comfort with the women, she always left the next morning with the only thing in remembrance of her presence was the mark of ink across a piece of paper.

And one night, with the buzz of alcohol hazing her brain, she found her lips pressed tightly against soft, warm feminine ones, a hand down her jeans, and hot moans falling from her swollen lips. She could barely see, with the dimmed lights and the secrecy of night, but it felt so nice, so filling, so... Forbidden. But she had not an idea why, for she was a grown woman and she could do whatever she pleased. But the feeling just made her moan louder.

When the offer of a warm bed and hot sex was given, she didn't have the mental capacity to turn it down. And even if she wasn't in a haze of pleasure, the sense off longing that she couldn't pin point.

They made their way, kissing and touching out into a cab, and somewhere inside Rachel, she felt the lightbulb flicker on about her secret girl, but she didn't want to think and shattered the piece as she pushed the other girl into the cab, save gently.

Oh and what a night it would be. That is until she woke up in a bed with white cotton sheets.


End file.
